


down to ride (till the happy end)

by raewastaken (IWriteLove)



Category: Rooster Teeth/Achievement Hunter/Funhaus RPF
Genre: Alternate Universe - Grand Theft Auto Setting, Bisexual Female Character, F/F, FakeHaus, Mentions of other characters - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-28
Updated: 2016-01-28
Packaged: 2018-05-16 19:42:45
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,963
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5838430
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/IWriteLove/pseuds/raewastaken
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Barbara didn't have much of an opinion on the Fakehaus crew. Until, she did, thanks to one wild-eyed blonde that came crashing into her life. Literally. Through her bedroom window.</p>
            </blockquote>





	down to ride (till the happy end)

**Author's Note:**

> also known as "the never ending femslash fic".
> 
> really. i didn't know how to finish this at fucking all.
> 
> s/o to officialachievementhunter on tumblr because cheryl is pretty much the one who drug me into the ship, probably without knowing. im always down for femslash and i am definitely down for elyse.
> 
> also s/o to the song "girlfriend" by icona pop that song is so barbelyse i cried a little.

Barbara didn’t have an opinion on the Fakehaus crew, as they called themselves, although part of her was sure she should. It seemed like every other day was a new story, a new series of explosions and shooting and cars with squealing tires speeding down the freeway in and out of Los Santos. Working for the paper, the Los Santos Times, put her in a position to hear about most of what happened with that wild gang of criminals, put her in a position where she had to form some kind of opinion, _any_ kind of opinion, but she just didn’t. What they were doing was illegal, she knew that; speeding, carjackings, robberies, assault, murder, drugs, arson, their rap sheet went on and on for miles, and that was collectively, _as a group_ . But part of her looked up to them in a way. The city was corrupt, from the politicians and law enforcement, trickling all the way down to the guy who owned the gas station on the corner across from her apartment. At least _someone_ was fighting back, even if meant numerous casualties and millions of dollars worth of damages that came out of her paycheck in taxes. Los Santos was a big city, and something was always happening, but looking back, it seemed more quiet to Barbara, before the Fake AH, then the Fakehaus, crew settled in and started their war path on their quest for thrills and money.

Their quote, unquote “quest for thrills and money” is what brought _her_ to Barbara. Literally. Right to her window.

Barbara’s apartment was on the nicer side of town, nothing too fancy, but definitely better than the hole in the wall place she had before. Being on the nicer side of town, though, meant she was prone to being right in the middle of whatever shenanigans the crew was getting themselves into. At first it was jarring and terrifying, but after months and months of it, it didn’t matter. The sirens and gunfire under her window didn’t phase her, hearing rushed footsteps on the fire escape outside her window, explosions and laughter from people who, honest to God, got a kick out of that. None of it. Her window was open, the wind blowing in and ruffling her curtains, as Barbara sat on her bed, scrolling through the comments on her newest article from her laptop. There were frantic steps on the rusty, rattling fire escape, and she ignored them. Mistake number one.

Before she really knew what was happening, a body slipped in through her window and into her bedroom. She made eye contact, staring right at the blonde now standing in the middle of her room, holding a sniper rifle and watching Barbara with wild eyes, before she cracked a grin and held up a single finger to her lips. Barbara nodded silently, watching her glance out the window to the chaos going on below, and caught a glimpse of a glowing blue headset in her ear. It buzzed with gunshots and laughter. The girl turned to her. “Front door?” she asked.

Barbara mechanically pointed out her bedroom door. “Down the hall,” she said.

She nodded, going to leave, and Barbara caught a name over the comm. “Elyse-” It muffled as the girl - Elyse? - moved her hand up to cover, answering in a hushed tone. She heard the front door open, and then close again, before her apartment fell into silence, except for the situation going on in the streets, and her own wildly beating heart.

 

* * *

 

“Long night?”

Barbara looked up from her computer, turning in her chair to see a cup of coffee from the Starbucks down the street being held in her face. JJ smiled down at her as she took the coffee with a small “thanks” and took a sip. “You could say that,” she mumbled, setting the cup down. “Fakehaus had something going on last night, right next to my apartment.”

“Yikes,” JJ said with a soft laugh. “I know how that feels.”

She hummed, tucking a stray strand of hair behind her ear. “Oh, yeah, Fake AH likes to cause trouble by your place don’t they?”

JJ glanced off to the side, shrugging. “It hasn’t been so bad lately, but yeah,” he said. Another one of their coworkers walked by and JJ exchanged quick pleasantries before they were gone. Barbara watched, caught up in her own thoughts for a moment. She hadn’t been able to get that girl out of her head, or her name. Elyse. Wild, green eyes and long blonde hair, danger wrapped in beauty. She felt her cheeks go warm, before JJ’s hand is waving in her face. “Wow, you really need a nap. Or stronger coffee.”

She rolled her eyes. “I’m fine,” she said. “Hey, could we get access to police records?”

“Uh, for a story maybe…” he trailed off, narrowing his eyes. “Why?”

“Research on the Fakehaus crew?” she suggested with a smile. They had been here for months, but no one had caught names yet. Not like with the Fake AH crew, which felt like they knew a little too much about them all. Fakehaus seemed to be covering their tracks and leaving no evidence behind for their identities.

JJ snorted. “Good luck with that. They’re too secretive,” he said, before glancing around a little. “But, I’ll look into it for you, alright?”

Barbara wanted to know how he’d get his hands on information not even the police knew, but she didn’t comment, only nodded. “Alright. Thanks, JJ.”

“No problem. I’ll let you nurse your exhaustion and that coffee before the boss starts making his rounds,” he said, smiling. “Talk to you later.”

Barbara waved as he walked off, turning back to her computer and letting her head fall onto her desk. This was going to be a long day.

 

* * *

 

Barbara came home to a flower shaped sticky note on her door with curly handwriting. She plucked it off, reading over to and making a face. _“Enjoy the flowers! - E”_ . Elyse? She shuffled her things around in her arms and pulled her keys from her purse, unlocking the door and stepping inside. Her heels clicked against the tile as she set her things down and turned on lights, jumping a little at the large vase of flowers sitting on her coffee table, stepping over to look at the little cardstock card next to it. She opened it up to read the note in the same handwriting as before. _“It’s not breaking and entering if I didn’t break anything! Sorry about last night, I’ll tell the boys to keep it down. I’ll make it up to you with dinner? - E”._ Barbara looked back at the flowers, confused and a little flustered, before her phone vibrated on the counter. She put the card back, walking over to look at it and opening the text she had received from JJ.

_ > _ **_JayJay the Jet Plane_ ** _: who exactly are u looking for in fakehaus?_

_ >> _ **_Barbara_ ** _: No one specifically. I just want info on the crew as a whole._

_ > _ **_JayJay the Jet Plane_ ** _: guess that makes it easier._

_ >> _ **_Barbara_ ** _: How are you getting this info anyway, JJ?_

_ > _ **_JayJay the Jet Plane_ ** _: a place. gtg see you at work tomorrow!_

Barbara frowned at his attempt to dodge the question, setting her phone back down and turning to the flowers again, eyeing them and sighing. She didn’t know how to answer about the dinner question. She pulled her hair from her bun, running her fingers through it as he walked back to her bedroom for a shower, stripping her clothes as she went.

It was halfway through her shower that she realized she considered getting _dinner_ with a _criminal_.

 

* * *

 

JJ dropped a stack of nine files on her desk the next morning, color coded tabs with names written neatly the first thing she saw, before she looked up at him. “That’s all I could get,” he said with a smile. “But I think it should be enough.”

She picked up the first file off the top, opening it. The face of a tired, bearded man greeted her, but it wasn’t a police lineup photo. The name to the side read Adam, and she skimmed the page. None of this looked like an official police record, not like any she had ever seen. There weren’t any fingerprints, and no last names were given. There wasn’t even a police station credited anywhere on the page, just the normal details listed in neat handwriting. She didn’t comment on that; she didn’t want to know where JJ got them anyway. “Thanks,” she said, looking up with a smile. “I’ll look at these after work.”

JJ nodded. “Alright. Just keep them to yourself,” he said, before he walked off. Barbara watched him go, before thumbing down the tabs on the side. Adam, Bruce, James, Matt, Sean, Joel, Lawrence, Jon.

Elyse.

Barbara stopped, before turning away from the files and to her computer, opening up the article she was supposed to be writing. She’d go through those later.

 

* * *

 

Barbara got home and dropped all her things off onto her bed, before stripping down for the fastest shower in her life. When she got out, she dried her hair with her towel and settled down into bed with nothing more than a bottle of water and a bowl of popcorn, opening the files and starting to read.

Adam was the ringleader, according to these; he was an ex-hitman from a corporation known as IG, and nothing else. Bruce had been an arm’s dealer for Adam, before, and now handled their guns and interrogations, with James. James had been a con man, got tangled up messily with Adam, and ended up joining his crew. Joel was a drug dealer, some pompous rich kid from the east coast, and handled finances. Sean was demolitions, grew up here in Los Santos in a shittier neighborhood, and Matt was their sniper. Matt’s page made Barbara a little uneasy, given all it had listed for him was his hair and eye color, and that he was a sniper. She made a note to ever avoid anyone named Matt in the future. Then Jon wasn’t even _officially_ part of the Fakehaus crew, but got thrown in with the rest. He apparently hung out a lot in their pent house, but other than that, didn’t do much for them, outside of the occasional medic work.

Barbara sat them all to the side, picking up the final one; Elyse. She opened the folder up to a picture of a smiling blonde leaning against a sleek black motorcycle. It was definitely her, from the other night. Same bright eyes, same smile, same wild look about her. She had grown up in Los Santos, in Vinewood, to wealthy parents. She did interrogations in the crew, and was also their secondary sniper. Barbara ate a couple of pieces of popcorn, shaking her head, before there was a knock at her front door. She set her things down and got out of bed, walking silently across her apartment and opening her door.

Elyse stood on the other side, wearing a grey t-shirt and blue jean jacket, looking over at Barbara with a smile. “Oh, you answered, I didn’t plan this far ahead.”

Barbara became embarrassingly aware that she was in nothing but her pajamas with her hair still half wet. “Um…”

“I just wanted to apologize for barging into your room the other night,” Elyse continued. “And for… I guess technically breaking in yesterday to give you the flowers. And not just… Coming to you directly. My name is Elyse.” She offered her hand.

“Well, you are a wanted criminal,” Barbara said, and doesn’t even register talking before the words are out of her mouth. She took Elyse’s hand, though, shaking it. “I’m Barbara.”

Elyse laughed, nodding and putting her hands in the pockets of her jacket. “Fair point,” she said with a smile. “So. Uh. Barbara. Dinner? Tomorrow night? My treat?” She nodded, blushing and trying to fight back the way her chest felt as Elyse smiled. “Awesome. I’ll be by to pick you up at seven. Wear pants. I have a bike.” Elyse handed her a folded up piece of paper, and Barbara doesn’t get another word in before Elyse is gone, walking down the hallway of her apartment. She opened the paper, staring down at the phone number writing on it in pink gel pen.

Barbara had a dinner date with a criminal.

 

* * *

 

Barbara’s not-opinion slowly became an Opinion by noon the next day. Capital ‘o’.

Apparently Elyse’s crew mates caught wind of their dinner date, and Barbara left her apartment that morning for work to see seven sticky notes lined up on her door. She didn’t want to know how they got her address (other than the obvious), before she was pulling the notes off and heading to work. They ranged from _“Have fun on the date!”_ to _“Hurt her and I will hurt you”_ , and back to _“She likes pasta”_ . Staring at them as she sat at her desk, putting off her work, she realized that these were sticky notes left on her _apartment door_ by _wanted, hardened criminals_ , and they were acting like a group of teenagers when they found out one of their friends had a date with the girl they liked.

It didn’t end there. Elyse had been texting her all day, mostly about how excited about she was for tonight, and occasionally on the antics her crew was up to. Barbara didn’t follow along real well, between Kovics and Peakes and Spooles. None of those names were familiar to her, and she didn’t want to admit she had read up about them all in those files JJ had given her. Creep was the last thing she wanted to look like in front of a cute girl.

It all came to a head at seven. Elyse had texted her a quick _“here!”_ and Barbara had headed down, fixing her boots in the elevator and staring at her reflection in metal plate above the floor numbers, before the doors opened. She stepped out of the lobby, blushing when she saw Elyse standing in front of her bike, hands in her denim jacket and that wild smile on her face. “Looking good, blondie!” she said happily. Barbara smiled back, walking over to Elyse, face heating up more when Elyse pressed to her cheek. “Ready to go?”

Barbara nodded, and Elyse helped her onto her bike, before getting on herself, turning the key in the ignition, and Barbara could feel the engine start under her. “You better hold on!” She yelled back to Barbara, and Barbara wrapped her arms around Elyse's thin waist immediately, then they were off. Barbara held on tight, feeling Elyse's laugh in her chest as the wind blew around them, and the adrenaline coursed through her veins as Elyse sped up. She glanced over at the city, watching the lights pass in colorful blurs, the sounds of the city muffled under the way she laughed to herself against Elyse's back. She had never felt a thrill like this, like she was on a rollercoaster without all the safety belts and the kid crying next to you. It caught a lump of emotion she couldn't name in her throat, and left a smile on her face even as Elyse pulled up to a stop in front of the restaurant, letting Barbara off first, before she kicked down the stand and swung her legs over, tossing her keys to a valet. “That was…” Barbara smoothed her hair down where it had gotten wind blown as they rode. Elyse's grin got dangerously large. “Wow,” was all she was able to breathe out.

“You've never been on a motorcycle before?” Elyse asked, offering her arm to Barbara. She shook his head and took it, letting herself be led in. “Wow, really? Mine isn't as nice as Bruce's, but it's got some kick to it…”

Dinner was… nice. One of the best dinner dates Barbara had ever been on, actually. It was a quiet place, and they had casual, pleasant conversation. Barbara talked about her job at Los Santos Times, how she reported all the stories on Fakehaus, admitting sheepishly that she had never put names to their antics. Elyse talked about growing up here, about her actor parents, how she got bored of being the trophy daughter, and wanted to do something more exciting than trading plastic faces for cameras. Barbara, in turn, talked about moving to Los Santos years ago, living in the roach-infested apartment on the south side of the city, about her rocky start as a reporter after running away from home in Canada. Elyse talked about the crew, after that, about the hodgepodge little group they had together, how at the end of the day, after the explosions and gunshots, that they were all her best friends.

Barbara's lack of an opinion on them shifted then; they were no longer a faceless gang of thugs, hell bent on attention and destruction. They were a group of very _real_ people, who had hobbies and interests and lives outside of crime. Adam liked cat videos, Joel sang in the shower, Matt took morning beach jogs, and Lawrence had overdue fines at every video store because of anime. Sean never took off his baseball cap, Bruce had a laugh that made you _smile_ if nothing else, and James once bench pressed Elyse for twenty bucks. Barbara was no longer an outsider, a normal nine-to-five reporter, who was looking in at this life she could only dream of being any part of. She _was_ a part of it, now, thanks to the smiling blonde in front of her.

Elyse dropped her off at her apartment afterward, tucking a strand of wind-blown hair behind her ear, before she kissed her, talking about another date in a week with pink cheeks and lips slightly shimmery from the lip gloss Barbara was wearing. It was when Elyse revved off into the Los Santos night, and Barbara had her fingers resting on her tingling lips, that she finally put a name to the emotion she felt around Elyse.

She made Barbara feel _alive_.

 

* * *

 

_ >> _ **_Barbara_ ** _: Those files are sitting in the top draw of your filing cabinet. Thanks again, JJ._

_ > _ **_JayJay the Jet Plane_ ** _: “thanks for getting me a date”?_

_ > _ **_JayJay the Jet Plane_ ** _: barb what does that mean?_

_ > _ **_JayJay the Jet Plane_ ** _: and elyse's file is missing the photo?_

_ > _ **_JayJay the Jet Plane_ ** _: barb??_

_ >> _ **_Barbara_ ** _: Reasons. Boss is walking this way, gtg!_

_ > _ **_JayJay the Jet Plane_ ** _: goddammit barb_

 

* * *

 

Their second dinner date went just as well as the first. Elyse showed up with her hair pulled back in a ponytail, and Barbara put hers in a bun, and she's greeted with a smile and a kiss, before they're taking off toward the restaurant. Barbara spent the entire drive with her arms tight around Elyse's middle and her eyes on the glimmering lights against the sunset, hands fisted in her shirt and a smile on her lips, a smile that didn't leave the entire night. They talked about relationships; Elyse mentioned her difficult, but gentle, break up with Bruce and James, and Barbara talked about her quick flings with both Gavin and Lindsay from Fake AH, and relished in the way Elyse laughed and called her a magnet for trouble. They talked about high school and college, how Barbara skipped town after she graduated at eighteen, and Elyse about majoring in theater out in Liberty City. They talked and talked for hours, it felt, about everything and nothing, splitting dessert and sharing wine, laughing at puns and kicking their feet under the table.

Elyse dropped Barbara off at her apartment the same as the week before, left her with a kiss and promises to make plans again, when she had the time. And Barbara floated on cloud nine all the way up to her apartment, dropping her things onto the counter and moving to lay on the couch, feel hanging over the arm, sighing happily.

“So you're her girlfriend?”

She sat up, looking across the room at the person sitting on the kitchen counter next to the stove, kicking their feet against her cabinet doors, smiling. He wore a hat, and looked no older than sixteen, and she thought back to what Elyse said, what she read in the files. Sean, this was Sean, or Spoole, as Elyse had called him. He hopped down at her staring, and she scrambled up from her spot on the couch. “Girlfriend, I- How did you-”

He rolled his eyes. “I grew up in Los Santos. I could break myself out of jail with a bobby pin,” he said. “I'm not here to hurt you, I just wanted to see Elyse's new girlfriend.”

Barbara frowned. “You could have knocked on the door, like everyone else,” she said, before blushing. “And I’m not her girlfriend! We’re just dating.”

“There's nothing fun about that!” He said with a grin that just screamed trouble, pure chaotic trouble. “And sure, sounds believable. Just make sure to treat her right. She’s got seven men as her best friends!” And then he left, out the front door, closing it behind him. Barbara stood in her living room for a moment.

What had she gotten herself into?

 

* * *

 

_ >> _ **_Barbara_ ** _: Tell the baseball hat dude not to break into my apartment again._

_ > _ **_Elyse <3_ ** _: Spoole. And I mean. I can tell him._

_ > _ **_Elyse <3_ ** _: No promises though. :P_

_ >> _ **_Barbara_ ** _: Great._

 

* * *

 

They met up again, two weeks after their last night, but this time they skipped dinner, riding up to Mount Chilliad in one of Elyse's friend's Jeeps. She looked even more beautiful behind the wheel of a car, but Barbara couldn't help but miss having her arms wrapped Elyse's middle, and watching the sparkling Los Santos lights through her teary dried eyes. Fall was starting to set in, and colder weather tailed it quickly, leaving Barbara shivery as her and Elyse sat on the hood, overlooking the entire city from where they sat, the view the best Barbara had ever seen.

“They all really want to meet you,” Elyse said, looking over at Barbara. She was wearing a leather jacket tonight, worn from years of use, but still durable and warm. Barbara wished she was wearing more than a thin cardigan. “Well, except Spoole.”

“I was about to say, I’ve already had the pleasure of meeting him,” Barbara said with a laugh, looking over at her in turn. “But… I don’t know, wouldn’t it be weird, just bringing me into your crew’s hideout?”

Elyse shrugged. “Nah. Lawrence does it all the time with that guy he’s so obviously in love with,” she explained casually. “I don’t think the guys will care much, honestly. They don’t think you’re a threat.” Barbara rolled her eyes at the comment. “If they did well…” Elyse trailed off uncomfortably, sighing. “Anyway, I think you should meet them. They’re great guys, and they’re my best friends, the closest thing I have to family.”

“Oh, meeting the family,” Barbara joked, laughing when Elyse playfully pushed her. She shivered a little, blushing when her companion shrugged off her leather jacket and put it around Barbara’s shoulders. Barbara slipped her arms into the sleeves. It felt warm, and smelled like Elyse’s perfume. “You really want me to?”

“Of course I do!” she said happily. “You’re-”

They both went silent. Elyse shifted a bit, and Barbara swallowed a lump in her throat. The word hung thick between them, and all Barbara could hear in her ears was Sean’s voice sing-songing _“girlfriend”_ over and over. She felt her chest thud with nerves, before she decided, fuck it, she’s spent too long being meek and timid over these things. “I’m your girlfriend,” she said, sternly.

Elyse looked over at her, before she nodded, once, silently, moving her hand to hold Barbara’s, and they laced their fingers together. “You’re my girlfriend. And I want you to meet the closest thing I have to family.”

Barbara smiled, her confidence surging in her chest and through her body, and she nodded. “Let’s meet the family.”

 

* * *

 

Fakehaus’ _“hideout”_  was a luxury penthouse apartment on the top floor, in a high-rise building in downtown. Barbara had driven past it so many times, on her way to and from work, and never once considered that one of the city’s most powerful gangs were stationed at the top for the world to see. Elyse explained on the way there that it wasn’t really the group’s apartment, so much as it was Adam’s, and they just decided to use it as their base until something better rolled along for them. It was a long, quiet ride in the elevator from the garage floor (Adam had his own garage for his apartment?) to the penthouse, and once they got to the top, Barbara was immediately ambushed.

Questions started flying the moment the doors opened; she recognized Sean’s voice immediately, among the others, before Elyse stepped forward as Barbara’s head spun. “Guys! God, she can’t answer anything if you’re all yelling!” she said, putting her hands on her hips, and, unsurprisingly, the room went silent. Barbara froze in the elevator, before Elyse looked back, motioning her forward. “Now, this is Barbara. She’s the girl I’ve been talking your ears off about for weeks. Barbara, this is the crew,” she introduced. Barbara gave a small wave, and was greeted with a chorus of hellos. “Okay, so, that’s Adam, Bruce, James, Joel, Spoole, Lawrence, Jon - oh, hi Jon - and Peake,” Elyse told her, pointing at each man in turn, and Barbara returned the small waves with her own.

“I feel like it’s nice to finally meet the face behind the name,” Joel said, smiling wide and eying Barbara up and down. “She’s a real catch, Elyse.”

“I told you!” Sean said, turning to him.

Lawrence rolled his eyes behind his glasses. “Really, guys, in front of her?”

Barbara chuckled nervously, putting her hands in the pockets of the leather jacket. James’s eyes lit up at that. “You’re wearing Elyse’s leather jacket!”

“O-Oh, yeah, uh…”

A couple of awes filled the room. Adam shook his head from where he stood next to the kitchen bar. Barbara smiled and blushed, before a voice cut through. “Can I speak to you outside, Barbara?” It was Bruce. Everyone turned to where he had been standing with his arms crossed. Elyse made a face, and Barbara felt all the blood drain from her face.

“S-Sure,” she choked out, before stepping across the living room to follow him out onto the balcony.

The blinds got drawn over the glass door after they stepped out, and her heart leapt into her throat. Oh god, did she say something wrong, and this is where she got pushed over the edge of the railing, and fell to her death? Was getting involved with a gang member this bad of an idea? Bruce leaned back against the railing and watched her, his arms cross over his chest, as she shivered and shook in her boots. “Are you serious about Elyse?”

That… Wasn’t what she was expecting. She opened and closed her both a few times, false starting her sentences in her head, before she spoke, finally. “Y-Yes,” she squeaked out, her fists tightening in the pockets of the jacket. “I’m serious about her.”

“You realize the risks that come with dating her, right?”

She could write a novel of the ones in her head, already. Elyse getting hurt, getting arrested, getting kidnapped, getting killed. Even Barbara could get arrested, or hurt, or killed, or kidnapped if her name ever ended up next to Elyse’s anywhere. But, she felt confident and strong and alive, and she wasn’t as scared as she probably should have been. “I know.”

Bruce watched her, eyes steady. “You’re a reporter right, at the Los Santos Times?” She nodded, once. “We can trust you won’t run off and tell the police where we are, right?”

“I promise,” she said, straightening her back to match his aloof, defensive position. “I’m not telling anyone.”

He seemed satisfied with this, and sighed out his nose, looking down and rubbing the back of his neck. “Sorry… You’re the first person we’ve brought in outside of the crew. We’re happy to meet you, but we’re trying to be cautious.”

“I understand.” Barbara, really, honestly, didn’t, but they didn’t seem out to hurt her without cause, and she didn’t want to mess this up. She did care about Elyse. And Elyse cared about this group, so Barbara was going to learn to care about this group. “But, I promise, I don’t have any ill intentions with Elyse, or with you. I’m serious about her.”

Bruce smiled, and it made the corners of Barbara’s mouth turn up in return. “I’m glad to hear that,” he said, patting her on the shoulder as he headed back in, pushing the guys back from the window where they had been eavesdropping, and the apartment was plunged back into chaos and noise. From next to her, Elyse stepped in, slipping their hands together with a smile.

Barbara could _totally_ deal with this.

 

* * *

 

_ > _ **_Unknown Number_ ** _: It was nice to meet you. Sorry I didn’t say much._

_ > _ **_Unknown Number_ ** _: Oh, sorry. It’s Matt, by the way. Or Peake._

_ >> _ **_Barbara_ ** _: Oh, no problem. Elyse gave you my number?_

_ > _ **_Mountain Man_ ** _: Yeah. I wanted to tell you that, is all._

_ > _ **_Mountain Man_ ** _: I hope you stick around. The other guys liked spending time with you, too._

_ > _ **_Mountain Man_ ** _: And having someone new around was nice._

_ >> _ **_Barbara_ ** _: I’ll definitely try to stick around the best I can._

_ >> _ **_Barbara_ ** _: Maybe it’ll be hard to get rid of me._

_ > _ **_Mountain Man_ ** _: I hope so._

_ > _ **_Mountain Man_ ** _: Well. I’ll see you whenever you decide to stop by the apartment again._

_ > _ **_Mountain Man_ ** _: Have a nice night, Barbara._

 

* * *

 

“You’re dating Elyse, from Fakehaus.”

Barbara looked up from her phone and over at JJ, who was standing behind her with his arms crossed over his chest. His voice was low enough that no one else around them could have heard, but loud enough that it drew Barbara away from the cat video Adam had texted her. It had been a couple of weeks since she had met the entirety of the gang, and had made quick, but awkward, friends with them all. JJ had surprised her, and she wanted to know where he got that information, but settled on a frown instead, going for her play dumb approach. “Um… Sorry?”

“Oh, don’t try that shit, Barb,” JJ said, running a hand through his hair. “I mean… God, really? Fakehaus?”

“Well, I wasn’t going to go for Fake AH,” she said quietly, her voice a hiss.

JJ made a face, sighing and rubbing his neck. “Okay, okay, look, let’s get lunch, so we can talk about this,” he said in a hushed tone. “Deal?”

Barbara made a face, but nodded. “Deal.”

They held true to that deal. Around the time their lunch break started, JJ jingled his keys behind her, and they headed down to his car and drove to the nearest Panera to get lunch. Barbara was taking bites of her sandwich when JJ spoke, voice a bit more raised now that they were outside, and there weren’t many people around. “You’re dating Elyse.” She rolled his eyes, setting her sandwich down and taking a sip of her rootbeer. “You asked me to get files on Fakehaus so you could pick up a girl?”

“I did not ask for files on Fakehaus so I could pick up a girl,” Barbara argued. “I asked for files on Fakehaus so I could put a name to the girl who, literally, came barging into my apartment through my bedroom window.”

JJ put his head in his hands. “God that is so them…” he groaned, running them down his face. “Okay, look, I need to come clean with you, Barbara. Because this is out of hand, and I’m not even surprised. I didn’t go to the police to get those files.”

Barbara’s expression didn’t change. “That’s supposed to be surprising?” she asked. “I knew those weren’t police files, JJ. They didn’t look official at all.”

“I work for Fake AH.”

They both go silent. Barbara stared at JJ across the table, hand on her cup, before she rested her chin on her other hand. “You… work for Fake AH.”

“I’m their inside man. I work at the newspaper and relay any notable information to them. I went to them to get the files, because they actually have information on Kovic and his gang.”

Barbara blinked. “I…” she started, before dropping her face to her hands, groaning. “Are we both involved with Los Santos’s most wanted criminals?

JJ chuckled quietly, and she heard him take a sip from his cup. “I think so. I’m dating Fake AH’s sniper.”

She let out a high pitched whine at that.

 

* * *

 

Barbara got home to flowers on her coffee table and a note next to the vase. She set her things down and walked over, picking it up and smiling at the neat handwriting inside.

_“Dinner, my place, tomorrow night at 7? - Elyse”_

She pulled her phone from her purse and pressed dial on Elyse’s number, holding it up to her ear. It took two rings before Elyse answered. “You've got to stop breaking into my apartment. And... Your place?” Barbara asked with a smile.

“Well, yeah, you haven’t been to my place yet,” Elyse answered casually. She could hear the shouts of the crew in the background. “And I figured I could make you dinner. Got to get all those romantic movie cliches in, you know.”

Barbara laughed, holding her free arm around herself and pacing around her kitchen. “Oh, yeah, of course,” she said with a smile. “But, yeah, dinner at your place sounds nice. Don’t get mad if I show up in my PJ’s, though.”

“I’ll have you know my dining room is a high class establishment. There is a dress code,” Elyse told her, a smile in her voice. Barbara muffled her laugh behind her hand. “Show up in whatever’s comfortable. I won’t be mad eating a candlelit dinner with my girlfriend while she’s a pair of boxers and an oversized t-shirt.”

“Excellent. I’ll be in my element,” Barbara joked. “But I’ll be there. Seven tomorrow night.”

“Seven tomorrow night,” Elyse repeated, before there was a muffled yell of her name. “Woops, got to go. James wants me to kick Adam’s ass at Mortal Kombat. I’ll talk to you tomorrow,” she said happily. “Love you!”

“Love you,” Barbara replied, before the line went silent and she neared screamed.

_I love you?!_

 

* * *

 

Barbara shifted awkwardly in front of the door to Elyse’s apartment, double checking her phone for the number and making sure it was the right floor, but making no move to knock. They had spent a bit of the day texting, mostly during Barbara’s breaks since she had been so swamped with work, and neither of them had mentioned the “I love you” from the night before, and Barbara wasn’t sure if it was because neither of them had the guts to bring it up, or if Elyse meant it and Barbara was, as per usual, was blowing things a little out of proportion. She pocketed her phone, bringing her fist up and knocking on the door, stepping back and fidgeting with the end of her dress, before it swung open. Elyse stood on the other side, hair done up nice and a smile on her face. There was music coming from inside. “Hey, you’re on time,” she said happily, kissing Barbara softly as she stepped forward. “Uh, dinner’s not quite done, but make yourself at home.”

Barbara entered the apartment and looked around as Elyse closed and locked the door behind. It was warm and inviting, with framed photos of Elyse with the guys hanging up on the walls and sitting on the shelves. Barbara laid her jacket across the back of the arm chair in the living room, setting her purse down on the cushion, before going over to pick up and look over the frames, hearing Elyse sing to herself from the kitchen. She smiled fondly at pictures of them on the beach, before Elyse cleared her throat, and she turned. “Dinner is ready,” Elyse said with a smile. Barbara set the frame back down and went over to her, being led to her dining room, where Elyse had set out their dinner, a plate each, complete with candles.

“Wow, I thought you were joking about the candlelit dinner,” Barbara said with a smile, letting Elyse pull her chair out for her. “I should have worn my pajamas.”

Elyse sat across from her, rolling her eyes and chuckling. “I was, in fact, not joking,” she said. “I take my candlelit dinner threats very seriously.”

Barbara laughed, and they started eating, talking idly as they ate. Honestly, Barbara forgot the last time she had a proper home cooked meal, much less had a nice conversation and a date over a proper home cooked meal. Elyse looked good in candle light, too, and Barbara felt herself be drawn more and more toward her than she was before the more she talked and smiled and laughed. She already knew she was completely enamored by her, by her personality and her spark, by the way she looked on her motorcycle, in her leather jacket, leaning against the railing of the balcony at Adam’s apartment. Barbara had fallen hard, and fast, for Elyse, maybe without realizing. And she didn’t mind, anymore, that she was falling for a criminal that had a police record longer than anything she had written for the paper, that she caused destruction and mayhem as her job. Because _maybe_ Barbara was in love, in love with Elyse’s wild sense of adventure, and her weird sense of humor, with the way she left Barbara’s lips tingling and her chest aching, with the way she made her feel excited at the idea of a new day, and how alive she made her feel, like she was doing something with her life, finally.

Elyse made her feel like there was something left waiting around for.

Their dinner ended with Barbara helping wash up their dishes, their hips pressed together as they laughed and swapped soapy plates and forks for rinsed and dried ones. They dried their hands and shared a kiss as Elyse pressed her against the counter, hands on her hips and chest pressed to hers, and their kiss didn’t break as Elyse led her back to her bedroom, didn’t break as they stumbled back to sit on the edge of the bed and worked off their shoes and their socks. It finally did when Elyse pressed Barbara back onto the sheets and pillows, running her hands up her smooth thighs and pressing lipstick-stained kisses on her neck. Barbara laced her fingers into Elyse’s hair, letting her head fall back and feeling her head thud loudly in her chest, before they were separating again to pull off clothes frantically and clumsily, working off bras and underwear. Then, they were meeting again, skin against skin, lips pressed against lips, soft sighs and loud moans, wandering hands and skillful fingers, air sticky and hot around them. It ended with Barbara’s whimper of Elyse’s name against her shoulder, and Elyse’s low groan of Barbara’s in her ear, before they collapsed back on the bed, still tangled together as they fell asleep.

 

* * *

 

Barbara woke up with the sound of birds and sunlight in her face, and she groaned, rubbing at her eyes and rolling over away from it, pressing her face into a pillow and sighing. There was quite music coming from outside the bedroom, upbeat pop music with female vocals, and she could hear Elyse singing along to it, and then she smelled bacon and eggs, her stomach rumbling. She felt safe and warm there, curled under yellow chevron sheets, the smell of Elyse’s perfume and shampoo surrounding her. Barbara braved a glance at the alarm clock sitting on the nightstand. Seven thirty. At least it was Saturday. She sighed, pushing herself up and sliding out of bed, shivering a little at the cold outside of the blankets, grabbing her bra and underwear off the floor and slipping them back on, before grabbing a shirt from Elyse’s closet, putting it on and heading out to the rest of the apartment.

Elyse was dressed and cooking in the kitchen, turning when she heard Barbara’s footsteps, a warm smile on her face. “Morning sleepyhead,” she said softly, kissing her cheek when she got close enough and handing her a cup of coffee. “Breakfast will be done in a bit.”

“Awesome,” she mumbled, taking a sip from the mug as Elyse moved back to the stove. “I could eat a whole pig I’m so hungry.”

That got a laugh. “Please don’t eat all my bacon. I need that,” she said with a smile, looking over at Barbara. “No pants suit you. You should go pantsless more often.”

“Only if you’re the one getting me out of them,” she said with a wink, laughing when Elyse’s face went bright red. They settled into comfortable silence as Elyse cooked and Barbara drank her coffee, before Barbara stepped over to Elyse, getting her attention and pulling her into a soft kiss. “I love you,” she said softly.

Elyse blushed, smiling back and returning the kiss with a soft giggle. “I love you, too, Barb.”

 

* * *

 

_ >> _ **_Barbara:_ ** _Just wanna say, thanks for getting me laid indirectly <3 _

_ > _ **_JayJay the Jet Plane_ ** _: tmi, barb. tm- fucking- i._

**Author's Note:**

> [follow me on tumblr!](http://seanspooles.co.vu/)


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